


I met him on the plane to Germany

by rather-amazing-fangirl (rather_amazing_fangirl)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dork Jean Kirstein, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, POV Jean Kirstein, jeanmarco, jeanmarco au, plane AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:32:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rather_amazing_fangirl/pseuds/rather-amazing-fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a quick adorable au, when Jean Kirschtein sits next to a certain freckled someone on his plane ride over to Germany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I met him on the plane to Germany

I first met him on the plane to Germany. I had thought he was just another face to forget. Just some random guy I was seated next to.

The plane was cramped and uncomfortable. The minuscule seats forced me to press uncomfortably close to the freckled boy beside me. I dreaded the awkward manoeuvres I had to perform to get around him whenever I had to go to the bathroom, my knee always terrifyingly close to his junk.

At least my flight partner was polite, and quite quiet. He never tried to force conversation; just greeted me politely and asked me if I wanted something to eat or drink when the hostess ladies came around with our meals. He didn’t use the mini TV on the seat in front of him for the entire flight; he just stayed immersed in his book, a cute smile touching his lips every now and then. For some reason, I kept catching my attention drifting towards his warm, brown eyes, and that adorable little button nose. He smelled like coffee and cinnamon, hints of what he’d had for breakfast that morning.

I couldn’t help the small blush that flared onto my cheeks when his hand was accidentally placed on mine for a split second. I didn’t even know him, but there was just something about that boy that was different from everyone else; something fresh and unique, yet comfortable and homely.

 It was late, and long flight. The sun had long vanished from the sky, leaving nothing but blackness for me to stare at from the small, porthole window.  I had watched all the good inflight movies and played all the good inflight games. I’d been served dinner, and the lights in the narrow hallway had been dimmed. I began to feel my eyelids droop as fatigue overwhelmed me. My head nodded as I fought sleep, then finally tilted over sideways, finding a warm, welcoming resting place for me to close my eyes and submit to my dreams.

The next thing I knew, a freckled face was looking down at me, tousled black hair falling halfway down his forehead. I jolted upright, accidentally slamming my forehead into his chin. A chill ran through me.

I had fallen asleep on the freckled boy’s shoulder.

I wiped my mouth in horror when I noticed the little string of drool hanging from the corner of my mouth. My faced flushed bright red, my cheeks hot. I began to stammer an apology, when he laughed. A light, beautiful laugh. He continued laughing until he noticed my obvious embarrassment. He assured me that it was fine, and that he’d only woken me because the plane had landed. He was just beginning to say something when I bolted off the plane, too scared to stay any longer. I felt a hard bulge in my pants and ran all the more faster.

I was too flustered and horrified at the time to notice it, but after I had collected my luggage and was looking for a cab in the streets of Berlin, I realized how odd it was that the freckled boy hadn’t woken me until the end of the flight. He’d just let me sleep there, resting my head on his shoulder and drooling on his nice-looking jacket for half the flight. I couldn’t help the heat that flowed to my cheeks.

I clapped my hand over my mouth with the crushing realization that I hadn’t even gotten his name.  I hadn’t had a proper conversation with him. I ran my hands through my hair, groaning in frustration, I yearned to turn back time just to talk with him. I had dashed off stupidly, allowing him to slip away from my life. I felt the weight of disappointment settle upon my chest. I tried to beg life for a second chance. I wanted so much to see that freckled boy again.

 

****

 

I was booking into my hotel when I heard it.

His voice. His sweet, angelic voice.

The freckled boy was here.

I turned in amazement as, cheeks rosy from the cold outside, he strode towards me. A smile was plastered on his face, and his hand was raised in the air as a greeting. Pure joy filled my heart.

Panting slightly, the freckled boy ran his fingers through his raven-black hair. “H-hi! You left before I could tell you. My name’s Marco. Marco Bodt.”

My perfect freckled pillow was called Marco.

I had gotten my second chance.

A deep warmth spread over me, and I flashed Marco a grin

“H-hey, Marco. I’m Jean, Jean Kirschtein. Nice to meet you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well my heart melted while writing this.


End file.
